The Calm Before the Storm
by redlightspecial
Summary: Ron enjoys the relative quiet of the Burrow in the days leading up to the trio's journey to Godric's Hollow.
1. The Waiting

**_The Calm Before the Storm_  
**by redlightspecial

**Chapter One: The Waiting**

The bright sunlight of the warm summer morning beat down on the back of Ron Weasley. He was leaning over a small hole that had been dug out in the garden behind the Burrow, trying to get a grasp on the last garden gnome he could find. It had taken him the better part of an hour, but he had managed to clear the garden of all unwelcome guests, save this one.

The gnome made a last ditch effort at escape, trying to squeeze past Ron as he moved in. But he tripped it up, grabbed its legs and flung the gnome far over the crest of the hill at the edge of the garden. As he turned away from the hole, a flash of ginger streaked by his feet, heading for the hill.

"Hey!" shouted Ron.

Crookshanks stopped and turned his squashed face up towards Ron.

He waggled a finger at the cat. "Do _not_ chase those gnomes back over here. I'm not de-gnoming again before the wedding."

The cat regarded him for just a moment and then stalked off over the hill.

"And stay out of trouble," he called out. "Hermione'll kill me if anything happens to you."

He wiped the dirt from his hands onto his jeans as he walked across the yard. The Burrow and all of the property surrounding it looked as immaculate as he'd ever seen it. In the few short days since he'd returned home from Hogwarts, the entire Weasley clan (minus Percy, whom Ron didn't bother counting anymore) had thrown all their effort into preparing for Bill and Fleur's wedding. Looking back over the past couple of days, having so much to do had turned out to be a blessing as it helped keep his mind off the death of his headmaster.

He shook his head. His headmaster. Even now, days later, he still found it hard to say or even think the name. It made it personal, and he didn't like the hurt that came with it, but he knew it had to be exponentially worse for Harry. With all that Harry and Dumbledore had been through this past year, he couldn't imagine how his best friend must be feeling. Add in Snape turning out to be the evil bastard he and Harry always knew him to be, and drop the prophecy right on top of all that, and it turned into quite a pile stacked up on Harry's shoulders.

Not for the first time, Ron silently cursed himself for allowing Harry to talk him and Hermione out of accompanying him to the Dursleys'. He was sure that Harry could handle the Muggles on his own, but wondered how well he was doing handling everything else.

As he approached the door to the kitchen, he heard voices coming from inside.

"Charlie and Ron will do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, this way it'll be all in the family. Gabrielle and Ginny, Charlie and Ron."

Ron opened the door to see Bill and his mother, sitting at the table, finishing their breakfast. "What am I doing?" he asked Bill.

"You're going to be in the wedding party, dear," said a beaming Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh. Alright."

Molly turned to Bill. "We'll have to go and get him some black dress robes so he matches you and Charlie. All he has are the blue ones that Fred and George bought for him."

Bill didn't answer as he was looking at Ron with an odd expression on his face. "On second thought," he started, "maybe I'll ask Fred or George to do it instead."

"Why?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Well-"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, Bill, we can afford to get Ron new robes."

"No, Mum," said Bill, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "It's not that. I just think that Ron might rather spend quality time with his guest."

She arched her eyebrows at her youngest son. "You have a date for the wedding, Ron?"

By sheer force of will, he was able to keep his ears from turning red. "It's just Hermione, Mum."

Bill nodded and his smile grew broader still. "_Just_ Hermione?"

"Stop."

"I'm not teasing, little brother, I'm saying nice job. She's smart and pretty."

Ron was startled by this revelation. Bill was engaged to a woman who looked like an angel. His opinion certainly carried more weight than any of his other brothers. "You think she's pretty?"

"I do. Don't you?"

This time, he couldn't stop the wave of heat from reaching his face. He looked down at his feet. "Well, yeah. But how did you-"

"Ginny."

"Ah."

"Your father and I like her very much," said a beaming Mrs. Weasley.

"Let's not get carried away. It's not that big a deal."

"I don't get carried away."

"Okay," answered Ron, who was now desperate for a subject change.

Surprisingly, it was his mother that delivered for him.

"What about Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Harry, Mum. I'm sure he'll be properly entertained," answered Ron, as he dropped into the seat next to her and plucked a piece of toast from her plate.

Mrs. Weasley's face lit up. "Oh, is he escorting someone too?"

Ron swallowed a bit of toast and looked up at Bill. "Ginny didn't say?"

"No. Ginny didn't mention Harry."

Ron studied his toast. "Interesting."

Truth be told, he still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Harry and his sister being together. He couldn't deny that Harry had been pretty happy lately. Not only had he seen it for himself, but Hermione had also commented to him, on much more than one occasion, how much their friend obviously enjoyed being in a relationship. Admittedly, he himself had pulled for this pairing a year ago, but that was before he'd thought it all the way through.

Ginny's love life, if that's what you'd call it, had always been reasonably well hidden from him. New facts would spring up every now and then, but the general day-to-day stuff was pretty much invisible, with the notable exception of one mind-numbing encounter with Dean and Ginny. Harry's thing with Cho had been out of sight, out of mind unless Harry- or much more likely, Hermione- brought it up. But with Harry and Ginny together, it would be all but unavoidable.

He knew that if they got into a fight he'd undoubtedly side with Harry, because in the end, all girls were barking mad. Like Lavender, who had delayed their impending breakup with her vice-like grip. Like Hermione, who had goggled at him incredulously when he asked her to the wedding, said yes, and then cried on his shoulder. Like his sister, who at one time could not shut up about the boy, but now didn't seem to want to mention that she and Harry Potter were a couple. Barking.

"Ron?"

"What?"

"I asked if you knew who he was bringing," said Mrs. Weasley.

There was a series of loud thumps coming down the stairwell and Ginny burst into view. "Mum, my room's all set for me, Fleur, and Gabrielle to share." She paused and looked at the three of them sitting at the table. "What are you talking about?"

"Ron's date for the wedding," said Bill.

"Yeah," responded Ron, "and I think Bill is bringing someone too."

Bill laughed and flicked a piece of bacon at Ron, striking him on the forehead.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head at her sons. "Don't make a mess. I just cleaned in here."

"Sorry, Mum," said Ron, as he popped the piece of bacon in his mouth.

"So, is Harry bringing someone?"

"No," interjected Ginny. "He told me he was thinking about asking someone, but changed his mind at the last minute."

"Oh, that's too bad," said a disappointed Mrs. Weasley.

"He seemed to be okay with his decision."

It took a moment for this new information to process, but once it did, the pieces all fell together. The oddly formal tone of their conversations after the funeral, the extremely awkward hug, without even the appearance of a chaste kiss as Harry left for the Dursleys', and no visits from Hedwig all added up to one inescapable truth. Harry's decision had been to break it off with Ginny and not tell him about it. He'd been snubbed by his best friend, and he actually felt slightly insulted.

He eyed Ginny thoughtfully. She didn't seem all that upset, though he knew she was a master at hiding things. He didn't believe for one minute that she would come to him looking to talk, but if he got her alone for a moment, perhaps he'd take the initiative.

"Ron," said Ginny, looking out the window, "looks like Pig is here."

Ron moved to the window to watch the tiny owl make his approach across the Weasley property.

"You were expecting an owl?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah," he answered, "I had Hermione take Pig home with her so she could write me and let me know when she's coming. She knew she'd be back soon, so she had me take Crookshanks so she wouldn't have to carry him back and forth."

He stepped back as Pig zoomed through the window and skidded to a stop on the kitchen table.

"Getting better," commented Ron, as the owl stuck a leg out with a roll of parchment attached to it.

Pig hooted happily as Ron freed the parchment and gave him a gentle pat on the head. "Go take some of Bill's bacon. It's alright."

Bill laughed as he broke off a small piece for the owl to eat. Pig nipped the bacon from Bill's hand and took off up the stairwell towards Ron's bedroom.

He scanned the parchment quickly, unable to keep a smile from crossing his face.

"She's coming tonight," he said. "Flooing here at seven, so we'll have to take the wards off of the fireplace."

"Is it even safe to use the Floo Network?" asked Ginny.

Bill nodded. "It's as safe as we can make it, and it'll be easier for her if she's got a trunk to bring along."

Mrs. Weasley nodded her agreement and glanced at her watch. "Oh, look at the time. Fleur and your father should be back any minute. I bet they'll be hungry." She got up from the table and set about the kitchen, flicking her wand at a knife which began to slice up some bacon.

"Are they at the Ministry?" asked Ron.

"Yes," answered Mrs. Weasley, who was now cracking some eggs, "they've been working on the arrangements for Fleur's family to travel to the Ministry by International Floo, and then to be driven here." She looked up at her daughter. "Ginny, give me a hand here."

Ron made his way up to his bedroom before his mother could ask him to do more work around the house. Making breakfast for Fleur and his father would occupy her for a few minutes so it seemed the right time to take a break. He flopped down on his bed and unrolled the letter from Hermione.

He read it a few more times, the smile immediately returning to his face. She had written that she missed him, which was just ridiculous, as it had only been a couple of days since they'd seen each other. Girls could be funny that way.

When he'd told his mother that it was no big deal that Hermione was his date, his voice had been strong and clear, which had belied the uncertainty that lay within. In Professor Sprout's class this past year, there had been a moment. A moment he was certain that their relationship had teetered perilously close to some big change. Perhaps that moment hadn't played out to its proper conclusion. He was positive that Hermione being escorted by McLaggen to Slughorn's stupid Christmas party was not where that moment had been headed.

He'd dropped the Quaffle on that one, though he felt strongly that he'd had a giant assist from Krum. Smarmy Bulgarian git could still wreck things, even from another country. Thank Merlin he'd never have to see his ugly face again.

Clearly, things were different now between he and Hermione, but in their typical fashion, they had left everything unsaid. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. By the time she arrived that night, he'd know exactly what he would need to say. He glanced at his watch and sighed. Seven o'clock seemed to be an eternity away, because as it turned out, he missed her too.


	2. The Arrival

**_The Calm Before the Storm_  
**by redlightspecial

**Chapter Two: The Arrival**

For Ron Weasley, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had not just been a place to learn the magic that he would need to survive in the adult wizarding world, but it had also been a place to learn valuable life lessons. It was where he learned to never accept candy from Fred and George, and how to properly balance one's chin in a cupped palm. A necessary skill that helped prevent one from falling and cracking their skull on a desk when they fell asleep in History of Magic. One near-concussion had been enough to commit that lesson to memory. It was also where he learned to never kiss a girl after she had eaten spinach, because no matter how impressive or enjoyable the act may have been, it still tasted like spinach. And Hogwarts was where he learned that the spinach-eating girl didn't quite measure up.

Today, however, a lesson which had been taught many times due to his propensity to procrastinate, had come once again to rear its ugly head. A deadline truly did come sooner when one was unprepared.

It was six forty-five and eternity now seemed to be a whole lot shorter than it did that morning. Just a mere fifteen minutes until Hermione's scheduled arrival and he didn't have a clue as to what he was going to say to her beyond, 'Hello.'

He'd spent the afternoon doing more chores around the Burrow: mending the fence, tidying up his father's shed, and clearing some weeds out in front of the garden. When he'd finish one job, Fleur and his mother would come out to investigate and direct him to something new. All of the time alone had allowed him the opportunity to consider what he might say to Hermione, but everything he came up with seemed forced or unnatural.

Now he paced his bedroom, desperately hoping for divine inspiration to strike.

His bedroom door opened just wide enough for Ginny to poke her head in. "C'mon down," she said, "Dad and Bill are taking the wards off of the fireplace."

He frowned at her. She had avoided him all afternoon, almost as if she knew that he'd been considering broaching the subject of Harry with her. Now here she was, observing him as if he had a severe case of Spattergroit, and poised to flee.

"Get in here," he said sternly.

She pushed the door all the way open and stepped across the threshold. She regarded him quietly for just a moment before speaking.

"You know," she stated.

He nodded. "What happened?"

"He ended it," she replied simply, in the manner of someone reporting the weather.

"I'm sorry?"

"He. Ended. It," she said, raising her voice slightly and carefully enunciating each word.

"I can understand English."

"Then what was the question?" Her eyes widened and a touch of pink blossomed on her cheeks. "Oh, I get it. I broke it off with Michael, I broke it off with Dean, so I must have broken it off with Harry."

He raised his hands defensively. "I didn't say that. I just don't understand."

"He said it wasn't working out."

Her composure and delivery were picture perfect. So good in fact, that Ron was convinced that just about anyone, save Hermione and himself, would have believed her. But he had seen Harry Potter with his sister, and he wasn't buying it.

He shook his head. "Try again."

Ginny sighed in resignation. "He says it's for my protection."

"Protection?"

"Apparently, he seems to think that _now_ is the time to pull away from people," she said.

She wasn't wrong about that. Just after Dumbledore's funeral, Harry had tried to express his intent to move onto the next part of his journey alone, but he and Hermione would not hear of it. When the time came, Harry might have to be the one to eliminate You-Know-Who, but until then, he wasn't going to be without his two best friends.

Ron gazed at his sister thoughtfully, wondering just how much Harry had told her. He wasn't about to break his promise to keep the prophecy a secret, but he wanted to dig a little deeper. "Why do you think he feels that way?"

She saw right through the question. "You know something."

"No, I don't," he lied. "Look, I didn't even know until today that you and Harry weren't together anymore."

He waited patiently while she mulled that over, absently pushing an owl treat with her finger across the top of Ron's dresser. Then she finally responded in a quiet voice. "He intends to go after Voldemort. He thinks I'll be safer if we aren't a couple."

He tilted his head at her.

She sighed and answered the unspoken query. "No, I don't like it, but there are times to pester Harry, and there are times to support him. Now isn't a time to pester." She turned on her heel and paused at the doorway. "C'mon. Hermione'll be here any minute."

Ron followed Ginny down the stairs, now feeling more confused than ever. His best friend had decided that now was the proper time to end a relationship, while his brother had decided that now was the right time to consummate one. It was a dangerous time to be sure, and Harry did have the prophecy hanging over him, but Bill was still involved in the war as well. But unlike Bill, he would be in the eye of the storm, right there by Harry's side. Did the inherent danger of being Harry Potter's friend make his and Harry's situation exactly the same? It was a question that he just couldn't answer.

He watched as Bill and his father used their wands to tap stones on the hearth in sequence, lowering the last of the wards. Crookshanks circled around his right leg twice, purring softly as Mr. Weasley lit the fireplace with a wave of his wand. Then Bill and his father both stepped back, holding their wands at the ready.

"Crookshanks will know if it's really her, Dad," said Ron.

"I suspect he will, Ron, but we shouldn't be lax. We'll keep the same routine."

"It's time," said Mrs. Weasley.

As if on cue, a burst of green flame erupted from within the lit fire, and Hermione Granger stepped from the fireplace, pulling a trunk behind her. Mr. Weasley pointed his wand under her chin as Bill began to lay down the wards that would once again protect the Weasley's fireplace.

"Good evening, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "Perhaps you could tell me what your dearest ambition in life is."

"To help achieve freedom and equality for all magical creatures," she answered.

Ron smiled at this very Hermione-like answer, even though he knew it not to be entirely true. Her dearest ambition, which was very much in line with his own, was to see Harry survive the prophecy.

"Are you sure that it's not to one day beat me in chess?" Ron asked.

With just a hint of a smile, she shook her head at him. "No question about who you are."

"Hermione?" prodded Mr. Weasley.

She turned to him. "Mr. Weasley, what's your dearest ambition?"

"To discover how aeroplanes stay up."

Hermione smiled broadly at him. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Weasley."

"And to see you, Hermione," he replied warmly.

Mr. Weasley turned his attention to helping Bill with the fireplace as Hermione accepted a hug from both Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.

"Bill, when you're finished there, please take Hermione's trunk up to Ginny's room, would you?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"All set, Mum," he answered, as he tapped one last stone with his wand. He flashed a nod and a wink at Hermione as he passed by, levitating her trunk out in front of him.

"I need to help Fleur finish in the kitchen," said Mrs. Weasley. "Dinner will be ready soon, but in the meantime, make yourself at home, Hermione."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she answered.

Hermione watched Mr. Weasley follow Mrs. Weasley out of the room before turning to Ron and Ginny. "Have you heard from Harry yet?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, and I'm guessing that you haven't either."

Hermione scooped up Crookshanks and scratched him gently behind the ears. "No, I haven't, but he said it would be a few days."

"He's fine," said Ron, noting the frowns on both girls' faces. "He's got members of the Order watching over him night and day. I'm sure he just wanted these last couple of days to torture the Muggles."

"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Besides," he continued, turning to face Hermione, "it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he got here tomorrow."

"Maybe," said Ginny, alternating her gaze between Ron and Hermione. "I think I'll go see if Mum and Phle- I mean, Fleur- need any help."

He watched Ginny leave, part of him wishing that she'd turn around, and come back in to distract Hermione further until he could think of something intelligent to say. The other part of him was insanely pleased to finally be alone with her, even if just to watch her reach up and brush a curly lock of hair out of her face, as she did right then.

She lowered Crookshanks onto the couch and turned to him.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi."

"It's good to be back."

"It's good to have you back."

Ron winced. Ten hours of 'planning' and all he could come up with was a quick rephrasing of Hermione's greeting. Score.

She moved in front of him, pulling him into an embrace, which he was more than happy to return. She squeezed him gently, resting her head against his shoulder. The two of them remained that way for just a moment before Ron's stomach rumbled loudly.

Hermione stepped back from him, a smirk on her face. "What? Has it been more than an hour since you've had something to eat?"

"It's been closer to two."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, let's go then."

He followed her into the kitchen, understanding that he may have let another moment filled with potential pass by. This time, there had been no Bulgarian Seeker to blame, but with the memory of holding Hermione fresh in his mind, the status quo didn't seem so bad after all.

--- --- ---

After dinner, they remained gathered about the table. Fleur was leading a discussion with Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione about the arrangements for the wedding, while Mr. Weasley flipped through the Daily Prophet, and Ron and Bill engaged in a chess match.

"Eet will be settled once Bill makes a decision," said Fleur.

"Fred or George," said Bill absently, as he studied the board.

"Yes, pick one."

Mrs. Weasley patted Fleur on the forearm. "We'll just take one of them to get fitted, dear. No matter which one Bill chooses, they'll fit into the robes."

"See," said Bill, as Ron's knight took out one of his castles, "no problem."

Fleur sighed and the girls moved on to discussing floral arrangements.

Ron smiled as he angled his bishop forward a couple of spots. Bill's game had fallen into a state of disrepair. He glanced at Fleur and determined that his brother probably had better things to do than play chess.

Bill noticed the grin. "I'm missing something."

Hermione broke from the conversation to peer at the board. "Ron's going to have either your king or your queen. I suggest you let him take the queen."

"Damn."

"Has someone been preparing for a match?" asked Ron.

She disregarded him with a wave, but wore a grin as she returned to the wedding discussion.

Eight moves later, Bill's king lay down his crown, and Ron shook his head sadly. "I never thought I'd see the day that Ginny was a better match than you."

"Hey!" exclaimed Ginny.

"I want a rematch," said Bill.

"After I dispatch Hermione, I will gladly beat you again," answered Ron.

"Right confident, aren't we?" asked Hermione as she traded places with Bill.

He shrugged. "Prove me wrong."

Fleur got up and walked around behind Bill, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Bill, I theenk maybe no more chess tonight. I need to clean your cuts."

He got right up from the table. "'Night everyone. Good luck, Hermione."

Hermione opened the match by moving a pawn forward two spaces and Ron nodded. "A fine opening," he said. "Looks like you'll be trying the Alexikhov Attack."

"It always amazes me that you can remember all of these chess strategies, but couldn't remember that the Giant War of 1812, was actually _in_ 1812."

"I thought it was a trick question."

Over the course of the next fifty moves, Ron announced that she had switched to the Fischer Counter, then the Romanian Blockade, followed by the Antonelli Defense, and finally, the Weasley Gambit.

"I'm sorry," she said, "the Weasley Gambit?"

"Well, it was named after someone else," he said with a smile, "but I've made it my own. It'd be a fine play though, if you thought you could do it."

She shook her head at him. "Nice try, but you won't be getting me off of my game plan."

It was the longest and toughest match that she had ever played against him. She had certainly improved and he gave himself a large part of the credit. Clearly, she had been paying attention to the master. Perhaps sometime soon, she would be good enough to play him to a stalemate.

The master leaned forward to study the board after Hermione slid her castle sideways three spaces, and he didn't like what he saw. His eyes narrowed as he played out the moves in his head three times, just to be sure. It appeared that the master was in trouble, but he wasn't certain that his opponent knew it.

He backed his queen into a defensive position and waited to see if six unblemished years of chess playing were in danger. Her hand hovered over her knight, the very piece that Ron was hoping she wouldn't move, but instead of grabbing it, she sat back and surveyed the board.

After a moment, she rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward over the board, her brow furrowed in concentration. Seeing her like this reminded Ron of how she would read those impossibly large books in the library, and how he would sometimes watch her read, rather than do his own assignment. For a brief second, he wondered if she ever just sat and watched him. He thought it unlikely, as he was sure he would have noticed that.

She massaged her bottom lip with her index finger. Then she reached out and moved her knight. He did his best to give no reaction as she looked up and met his eyes with a smile.

"Hedwig," she said.

"You don't have checkmate," he said defensively.

"What? Ron, no. Hedwig."

He heard a soft tapping at the window and turned to see a snowy white owl waiting to be let in. Harry had finally made contact.


End file.
